No Rules

Chapter 1

Up tears his eyes away from the illuminated shelves stocked with various bottles of alcohol when a new presence arrives in his vicinity, palms pressed against the edge of the counter as he leans forward to speak to the bartender.

His voice is pleasant, Up notes over the music, and when he looks properly instead of just glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, he sees the pretty side-profile in its full glory, neon blue light reflecting in his cat eyes. What draws Up's attention, though, is what looks like a tattoo of a wild cat peeking from beneath the short sleeve of his black shirt, curling around his bicep and big enough to stretch onto his shoulder, probably.

The stranger pushes his black hair back when the bartender walks away after taking his order, eyes darting around the club, just to fall on Up, who is perched on one of the stools by the counter. The small smile he's been sporting sharpens into a confident grin as he catches Up staring—ogling his arm—and he raises an eyebrow curiously.

"Want to see the rest?"

Up blinks, the tips of his ears heating up at the notion that his staring must've been way too obvious. "Excuse me?"

The stranger shakes his head with a smile and grabs the sleeve of his shirt to pull it up, revealing more of the black ink adorning his skin. Up's eyes widen, mouth parting wordlessly—because of the design, not because of how the stranger's arm flexes in the dimmed lights.

"The head is on my collarbone," he says, grinning cheekily at Up and cocking his head to the side. "But I don't feel like stripping in front of the entire bar."

"It's cool," Up ends up telling him, trying to sound less interested in the idea of seeing him without clothes, and he feels utterly stupid when the stranger ducks his head with laughter on his pretty pink lips. "What's so funny Up asked?"

The stranger looks up again, meeting his gaze, and—well, he's just really handsome , especially with that mischief in his eyes, a glimmer of danger that lures Up in.

"Nothing," he says, voice melodic and pleasant in comparison to the loud music booming through the bar; it makes Up wonder just how much nicer he must sound when the world is quiet. "You're just cool. And I kinda want you to find my other tattoos."

Up lifts his glass of some sour drink he doesn't know the name of to his lips to hide the smile forcing its way to his face, but if the way the stranger regards him with—with amusement and something more— is anything to go by, he knows either way.

Just as he's about to play a little, teasing about how he's not convinced if the tattoo is that cool just yet, the bartender sets a small tray of colorful drinks in front of the stranger, drawing their attention.

"I need to get these to my friends," he says, nodding in the general direction of the lounges upstairs. "Will you be here when I'm back?"

Up hums. "Depends on when you'll be back."

The stranger's mouth curls up in a smirk again. He grabs the tray off the bar counter, shoots Up a very-not-cute wink, says, "Before you know it," and walks away towards the stairs, confident in his posture, hips swaying just barely, like he knows Up is staring—that he'll notice.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

"Let me buy you another drink," Kao, the handsome stranger, says after a moment of nonsensical chatter, after Up puts the glass up to his lips again and finds it disappointingly empty, after Up realizes that Kao's laughter sounds nice and he makes for tolerable company.

Still, it's probably stupid to say yes when Up knows that the offer is on the table only because Kao wants to keep him here—that he still hasn't gotten what he came here for. It's probably even dumber to sit here, entertaining this when Up doesn't really know how it's going to end.